


Confessions

by w_x_2



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-14
Updated: 2013-09-14
Packaged: 2017-12-26 14:20:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/966941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/w_x_2/pseuds/w_x_2
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After smutty time both Mickey and Ian take turns confessing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Confessions

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Characters do not belong to me, no harm is intended and no profit is made.

They’d just finished having sex, half an hour ago granted, but still, because they’d been laying in bed for that time – _laying_ not cuddling, never cuddling by Mickey’s definition– when Ian walked up to the bathroom a few moments after Mickey had gone in the other male was already bent over the tub, and because they’d been _laying,_ the previously otherwise carefully kept in place come was now dribbling down between Mickey’s ass cheeks.

 

Consequently, Ian’s mind’s now crowded with one thought only, again.

 

Ian walks up to his lover and places a hand on his back so that Mickey won’t be able to get up, noticing out of the corner of his eye that his partner has finished readying the bath as the water is starting to pool and slowly fill up the tub.

 

“Firecrotch,” Mickey warns as he tries to get up.

 

Ian presses on his back with a bit more pressure and nudges Mickey’s right foot with his own, signalling him to open wider. When Mickey doesn’t, Ian asks, “Come on,” as a soft request and Mickey does open his legs further apart then.

 

Ian makes a pleased sound and Mickey hmms. It is quite the sight, his come dribbling out of Mickey’s hole. Ian can remember spilling inside, how good it felt and his cock is starting to fill once more in response. Ian feels the urge to push his come back inside Mickey, where it was initially released, so he lifts the hand which is not placed on Mickey’s back, up to Mickey’s ass and using his thumb trails the come up and into his hole, thumb momentarily dipping inside before trailing down to once more push up any that he missed. After he pushes it in this time though, he brings his thumb up to his mouth to taste it, hips moving forward to rub his cock between the delicious sight of Mickey’s splayed legs, right across his hole.

 

“You’re so fucking randy,” Mickey mutters.

 

“Don’t you love it?” Ian teases with a smile on his lips after he pops his thumb out of his mouth.

 

“Not at the moment no, and I especially won’t when I fall on my head.”

 

“I won’t let you do that,” Ian solemnly promises.

 

Ian runs his right hand up Mickey’s lower back until it joins its twin at Mickey’s upper back and then each take separate routes up to his shoulders. Ian makes a pleased noise when Mickey doesn’t immediately try to get up and then begins to trail each arm. Once he reaches the triceps, just above Mickey’s elbows, Ian closes his fingers around the limbs, pulls a little but Mickey resists, and instantly complains, “I am definitely gonna fall like that, you ass. What are you doing?”

 

“Gimme,” Ian prompts, pulling softly on each arm so that Mickey lifts his soaked hands from the bottom of the tub and allows Ian to pull his arms back. Mickey begins to straighten with the motion but Ian only lets him get so far before he makes a negative sound and prompts Mickey to stop straightening and to bend his arms.

 

“Hundred times worse,” Mickey complains when Ian makes a pleased noise after he finishes adjusting Mickey to his liking.

 

Mickey is now by all means at Ian’s mercy. Even though he can support some of his weight, if Ian were to let go of his arms which are now folded at the elbows with Ian’s grip on his forearms, Mickey wouldn’t have enough time to control his movements and would plant head first either into the tub or the tilled wall.

 

Ian pumps his hips, rubbing against Mickey’s hole and Mickey teases him, “Didn’t think this through, did ya?”

 

The freckled man shushes Mickey even though he knows he’s probably right and attempts to push into him but Mickey doesn’t try to aid Ian, instead moves his hips further forward and away from Ian so that he can’t push inside.

 

Ian tsks and Mickey sniggers.

 

“Please,” Ian requests.

 

Mickey makes to ponder the request, it’s not a comfortable position, and things could go wrong –head meet hard surface– but in truth he doesn’t have to think about what he’s actually going to do. With the little control he has to move his hips, he moves them back towards Ian, sticking his ass out and putting the weight of his body onto the balls of his feet so that he can help Ian to push his cock inside him bit by bit.

 

Because of the stretch and slick remaining from earlier, the entrance is smooth but it takes a bit longer than it would usually and it somehow feels better going in. Most likely because it’s different as it’s the first time they’ve done it in this particular way. As much as Mickey loves taking it from behind and how sometimes, only rarely Ian will clasp Mickey’s hand with his, Mickey’s never restrained. Technically, he’s being held up right now, prevented from falling, but nevertheless: _held_ , restrained.

 

It feels like he should feel vulnerable, but he knows that Ian won’t think less of him for liking what he likes, won’t point out the particularly submissive way, and if he does it won’t be in a way to make Mickey feel inferior or bad for it.

 

And so he enjoys it and he helps Ian by keeping his hips thrust towards him, attempts to give it back just as hard as Ian pumps into him and as a results hears himself make little grunts but revels in the new louder moans that Ian lets out.

 

He can tell when Ian is starting to get close, not just by the quickness of his thrusts, but by the strength he’s gripping Mickey’s forearms with. The hands are tight around his skin, there’s no doubt there will be hand shaped bruises on each arm tomorrow. And then it’s crystal clear when he feels his body slipping forward, closer and closer to the wall because Ian is no longer paying full attention to keeping Mickey from falling. He’s about to warn his Firecrotch, and the warning does still slip out, but before it does completely, Ian is already correcting himself, pulling Mickey towards him with an even tighter grip and consequently a promise of hand shaped bruises in a few hours rather than the following day.

 

“Are you close?” Ian asks.

 

“Yeah,” Mickey grunts.

 

Ian speeds up his thrusts and Mickey truly is feeling a lot of pleasure. His prostrate is being hit constantly and the grip on his arms is hurting but it is a good kind of hurt. Ian’s obvious pleasure heightens his own and yet the fact that he has no pressure on his cock makes it a problem when Ian asks, “gonna come?”

 

Mickey grunts in response. “No pressure,” he adds and instantly feels Ian start to slow down. “Don’t,” he demands and elaborates, “finish.” And then says with a sly grin, “But be prepared to get down on your knees once you do.”

 

The thing is, Ian doesn’t mind giving Mickey a blowjob, likes it when Mickey lets go and fucks past Ian’s lips to the back of his throat. But this time, he wants Mickey to reach the peak of his pleasure with him, so, he pulls Mickey all the way towards him so that Mickey’s back is against Ian’s torso and Mickey can hold his own weight with his feet flat on the ground.

 

“What you doing?” Mickey questions as he makes to move his arms from Ian’s grip but Ian doesn’t let go.

 

“Wait,” Ian requests and Mickey feels his arms being bent inwards at the elbows between his and Ian’s bodies, placed horizontally so that when Ian asks Mickey to close his own hands over his own arms, he can reach out and do it.

 

“Comfy?” Ian murmurs.

 

“Mnnh,” Mickey answers as he thrusts his hips backwards so that Ian’s cock thrusts deeper into his sweet spot.

 

“Want your arms back?” Ian questions softly and sincerely and Mickey understands it for what it is, Ian telling him that although he still wants Mickey to not have control over his arms, he’d give them back straight away if Mickey told him to.

 

“Just move it,” Mickey answers. _No, I don’t want them back. Right now I’m quite happy for you to do with me as you please._ That he doesn’t say but he knows Ian will read between the lines.

 

And Ian does, and he also moves, thrusting once out of Mickey until only the head of his cock is squeezed between Mickey’s muscles and then back in. Once he is fully lodged back inside, Mickey’s little moan accompanying the movement, Ian lets go of Mickey’s arms briefly and then loops his left arm between Mickey’s arm and back, and finishes the hold by clasping his hand over part of Mickey’s left hand and the arm it’s holding.

 

With Mickey securely held in his grasp his other arm goes around Mickey’s body, hand free to roam Mickey’s front. Ian starts by running his fingers down Mickey’s neck to his chest where he pinches a nipple and then caresses down Mickey’s torso to briefly grab Mickey’s right hip and use the leverage to thrust in and out a few times.

 

He makes sure the grip around Mickey’s arm holds tight and leans his body over Mickey’s own, making him lean forward in turn and thrust his ass back, although this time still able to hold all his weight.

 

“Happy?” Mickey questions once Ian seems to once more have finished adjusting Mickey’s body to his liking.

 

“Like you’ve no idea,” Ian replies honestly with awe clear in his voice, as though he’s just been handed the most precious thing in the world.

 

Mickey’s about to complain, at least protest how gay Ian is, but the ginger man knows him too well and knocks out his breath with a hard thrust inside him that leaves him seeing stars at the same time that he wraps a hand around his cock, moving in all the right ways.

 

“Shh,” Ian breathes near his ear, mouth catching Mickey’s left earlobe and hand tightening around Mickey’s hand and arm. Ian closes his teeth and lips around the skin but doesn’t bite, instead sucks and then nibbles. The tongue action he leaves for when Mickey is panting and with his focus only on the various points of pleasure he’s receiving, no longer capable of even moaning his pleasure.

 

Ian speeds up his hand and hips, and then both men are tensing, soaring into the peak of their pleasure for a long time before they eventually crash down.

 

When Mickey opens his eyes the first thing he sees is his come trailing down the tiled walls. He hears Ian moan into his ear before his Firecrotch tightens his grip on Mickey’s cock one last time. Mickey squeaks, sensitive now and his ass responds automatically, muscles contracting around Ian’s length which makes Ian curse and hurry to slip out.

 

“Fucker,” Mickey mutters and sounds winded even to his own ears. Mickey pulls on his arms and –unexpectedly to Mickey– Ian actually lets go straight away which causes Mickey to fumble to grab the edge of the bath tub. He’s glad when Ian moves his hand from Mickey’s cock to his stomach to stabilize him but doesn’t say anything.

 

Mickey lifts his leg until his foot can touch the water, but realises getting into the tub is actually not going to happen when he feels that it is burning. Mickey turns the hot tap water off and the cold water tap on, and waits.

 

Waits for the water to cool down with Ian’s arms wrapped around him because the fucker found the perfect excuse to also put his left arm around him when Mickey leaned over to the taps, so now, both his hands are splayed on Mickey’s tummy, middle fingers of each hand just touching, hands faking support.

 

It’s nice and Mickey actually waits enough time so that the water can cool down enough before he attempts to feels the temperature with his hand. Without the additional pleasure, his arms hurt and feel kind of dead and he’s going to demand a careful massage as soon as they’re laying down.

 

Because yeah, he realizes that laying together in the tub is totally going to happen. That is, after he turns off the tap and actually unplugs the plug for long enough so that the water level lowers and won’t flood the bathroom when they both step in nor when they lay down.

 

When Mickey deems it at a good enough level, he says “in.” And looks behind him at Ian with an expectant look.

 

Ian gets in quite happily, and then helps –though not really– Mickey step in before he sits his ass down when Mickey looks pointedly at him with arched eyebrows for him to get a move on.

 

“Lay back,” Mickey huffs when Ian doesn’t after sitting down because it _should_ be the natural progression.

 

Mickey watches Ian as he does as instructed and then pretty much plumps down on top of him, only taking care not to knee him anywhere too important, at least not too hard.

 

“Ouch,” Ian yelps when he gets elbowed on the shoulder. Mickey doesn’t apologise, turns his face away to smile and then takes great pleasure in taking as much time as possible to adjust every single limb. As well as Ian’s when they get in the way.

 

He ends up laying on top of Ian with one leg between Ian’s and his head resting on a collarbone with Ian’s arms resting across his back. He makes a happy noise and is quite content to just _stay_ even though he had thought about demanding the massage.

 

“You know,” Ian says after a while, voice sincere and not at all questioning but instead like those two words were a full sentence and were enough to convey what he was trying to say clearly.

 

And the thing is, Mickey does know what he means, so he answers with an “hmm”. Short and to the point: _I do know._

 

Ian feels quite happy with the response and runs his hands over Mickey’s back in return, slowly but strongly, pressing in on all the right points. When he’s done with Mickey’s back, never going too far down for the temptation of Mickey’s ass cheeks which if he touched he would remain grabbing and caressing until they got out of the shower, he runs his hands back up, moving his body slightly so that he can grab one of Mickey’s hands and begin to massage it. He continues up the arm and all the way up to the shoulder, taking care to be particularly tender with the forearm. It’s when he moves his body once again to be able to grab the other hand and start the same treatment on that hand and arm that Mickey speaks up.

 

“I love you,” Mickey utters, confident in what he says although his heart is pounding quickly and he feels as though it will burst right out of his ribcage.

 

Mickey has to wait a few moments for Ian to respond, and when the other man does, Ian simply breathes, “Oh.” Before he slowly begins the massage he’d intended to deliver.

 

Mickey’s breath cuts mid inhale for a second before he processes the reply and then asks, “Oh? _Oh_? Are you-?” but stops himself mid question.

 

“Lemme finish your arm, then you can get up,” Ian says when Mickey moves to do just that.

 

Mickey swallows audibly, too many worries going through his mind, the incredulity of having allowed himself to look so vulnerable the most pressing. And then there’s a whole new set of thoughts when Ian utters, “I want a baby. Well, or babies.” Mickey feels Ian nod as though he’s agreeing with himself. “Babies would be best.”

 

And Mickey realizes there’s still the one question that remains the same and actually slips out fully this time. “Are you fucking kidding me?” he questions as leans onto his free arm so that he can arch his back and move to get up.

 

“Told you to wait, lemme take care of your arm,” Ian murmurs, trying to get Mickey to stay.

 

“Forget about it,” Mickey says even though he doesn’t move anymore. “You just dropped a fucking bombshell despite never fucking have reciprocated your feelings back. Do you even-?

 

“Ei,” Ian interrupts. “Don’t you even ask that,” he demands. “I’ve been saying ‘You know’ for how long? Always careful of your feelings but the fact is that this is the perfect time. You just said you love me. You were able to say it out loud to me and to _yourself_ for the first time ever. You love me. And you _know_ I want to spend the rest of my life with you. This is the perfect time to drop this bombshell, as you’ve called it, on you. I want a kid, kids, in the future and I want you to know that. Doesn’t mean it’s right now but it would be nice if you thought about it and told me what your thoughts are on the subject.”

 

Mickey doesn’t have to think about it for very long. Yes, it’s fucking scary, but. “No fucking way right now,” Mickey answers gruffly and Ian’s face drops. So Mickey explains, “There ain’t no way to get a baby that fast, neither you nor I can pop one out and even adopting a kid would take its time.”

 

Mickey watches the smile on Ian’s face grow, and then the mischievousness. “As long as I don’t have to wait 11 years, three months and give or take 17 days,” Ian says nonchalantly.

 

Mickey squints his eyes at Ian, thinking about the very specific date and thinking back on what event it could fall on. And fuck if it doesn’t fall right on the day when Mickey realized that he loved the Firecrotch.

 

“How the fuck do you know that’s when I fell for you?” Mickeys asks indignantly not even bothering to deny it or come up with something smart to retort.

 

“It wasn’t,” Ian answers as though trying to explain to a little kid, tone patient and soft to avoid any spooking although he doubts that at this point he’d be able to spook Mickey for very long.

 

“Oh no?” Mickey questions knowingly.

 

“No,” Ian answers simply. And then continues when Mickey arches his eyebrows at him once more, telling him to hurry up and talk. “I don’t know when that was,” Ian answers honestly. “But I do know that was when you realized it.”

 

“Well, aren’t you just a know it all?” Mickey mocks, though not maliciously, never maliciously, not for a very, very long time.

 

“Well,” Ian answers, as though ready to correct him with what he’d just said.

 

“Shut the fuck up,” Mickey says and then demands it as he envelops Ian’s lips with his own in a deep kiss.


End file.
